Hungary: How to catch a thief with a crazy frog.

Hungary: How to catch a thief with a crazy frog.

In life there are many great questions.

What is the meaning of life? What is the secret to true happiness? Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard? And now, more importantly, Who invented camping?

Yes, I know camping wasn't exactly 'invented'. But is it just me or didn't we evolve from caves, to hovels, to big houses with dandy things like ice dispensing fridges? So why do we revert back to our neanderthal selves by intentionally sleeping in sub-cave accommodation commonly known as tents?

You could say "Andrew you're getting back to nature" or "you're getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city". Or you could just say "Geez Andrew, your blog is just full of bitching. Seriously, why would I take the time to read your blog if you're just going to be negative? Now go sit in the corner for ten minutes and think about what you've done"... (10 minutes pass)... Ok, good point. I rephrase. I hate camping in dodgy Hungarian campsites.

There's the rain, mud, and the shared toilet that has a Jackson Pollack inspired stream of shit blasted across it's walls - but they're a given. No, I have a valid reason. Honest.

Arriving at our campsit I saw that the security was decidedly dodgy. The only thing that protected our tents from the neighbouring housing estate was an old, rusted fence. It was lined with laughable barb wire that could easily be scaled with a blanket.( I have seen my fair share of prison break movies.)

So after a day of sightseeing in Budapest we quickly discovered that some of our bags had been stolen from our tents.It was around 11pm. Our group went into a frenzy. Four bags were missing. When were they taken? Was the thief in the area? We were frantically searching our tents when a certain crazy Irishman claimed to hear footsteps in the surrounding forest. All hell broke loose.

Someone screamed "Let's get them!" and our group sprinted into the pitch black forest. (Think Blair Witch.) High on adrenaline I followed. Other members were armed with study torches and large stones... I was armed with a Motorola razor. I split up from the rest of the group and found myself guided by the faint light of my mobile phone.

As I was aggressively inhaling oxygen into my tired lungs, I thought what would happen if I actually came across the thief? My mobile had no credit and the dial button didn't work. Maybe I could distract him with my latest wallpaper? Or paralyze him with an annoying crazy frog ring tone? Lucky for me I didn't catch the thief. No one did.

The bags were found (open) a few hundred meters away from our site. They were lying next to the dodgy fence which now had a huge, gaping escape hole cut into it. As I stood admiring the hole, four of our tour members shot through it hoping to catch the thief.

Following them through the hole, | saw they had caught a tall, lanky, middle aged man (which was admittedly the first person they saw) . "STOP PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR" they screamed. Petrified, this is exactly what he did. Turns out he wasn't the thief, rather an innocent Polish steel worker. He was walking home from work when he was unexpectedly surrounded by four adrenaline high Irishmen. The Pole practically called the police who promptly arrived.

Budapest's finest concluded that the theft had been made during the day, and although the bags were dumped and searched through, the thief had only stolen a hair straightener.

So next time you're in Budapest and see a suspicious criminal with artificially straightened hair, please look him in the eye and tell him: "Andrew Marriott hates camping."

Thank you.